


Honour More

by Celandine



Series: Narnia Sequence [13]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Angst, Drama, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-03
Updated: 2008-07-03
Packaged: 2017-10-12 04:00:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/120515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celandine/pseuds/Celandine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Who would I be, if I were not king?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honour More

The encounter with the Sea Serpent brought home to Edmund the depth of his feelings. When all was over, and the _Dawn Treader_ escaped with nothing worse than the loss of her carved stern, it was not the closeness of his own death that made Edmund shake in reaction, certainly not that of Eustace nor even that of Lucy, but the thought of losing Caspian.

His response disturbed him, irrational as it was. Caspian had fought in battles without Edmund back in England even being aware of them, and here on shipboard any danger to Caspian was most probably Edmund's danger too. Nor -- if Caspian _were_ to be injured or die -- would it be the first time Edmund had endured loss. More than once when he had reigned under High King Peter had Edmund seen his fellows fall in battle.

Yet this was different. Edmund loved Caspian in a fashion far deeper than mere respect or appreciation of his fine qualities as man and king. It was rooted through his very being, head and heart and body together. The recognition of one who was his equal brought a delight that was as complete as it was unanticipated.

He told Caspian of his feelings that night, hesitantly, as they stood together at the ship's stern in the last vestiges of summer twilight.

"I thought I might lose you," Edmund murmured, his voice scarcely louder than the sound of wind in the sail, to be heard by Caspian alone. "I could not have borne that."

"Nor I, if I lost you." Caspian spoke under his breath also, then continued in a louder tone, "It makes me wonder, now, what would happen to you if you _were_ to be killed here. Would you disappear back to your own world? Alive, or dead there? Or would you simply die here and remain here?"

"I have no idea." Edmund gave a short laugh. "Peter used to ask the same thing on occasion, when he went north to fight the giants on Ettinsmoor, for instance. We never had an answer -- Aslan never gave any indication of that. I suppose it doesn't seem important to him."

"Aslan might not care, but I would, very much." Caspian's voice was a whisper again in the deepening darkness, and his fingers strong and warm against Edmund's own.

"I would myself," Edmund said. "There is more that I would regret leaving here in Narnia than back in my own world."

"It seems rather unfair that you should be able to come to this world, three times now, and yet so far as I know, no one has ever visited yours from here," said Caspian thoughtfully. "I wish I could. I would like to see your world."

"You would not be a king there. I'm not."

"I wouldn't care about that, or at least, I don't think I would," said Caspian thoughtfully. He moved a little closer to Edmund so that they were touching, the warmth of their bodies together a defence against the coolness of the evening air, and tugged him down to sit on the deck in the shadows. "Not if I could be with you."

In his heart Edmund knew Caspian's dream to be impossible; there was no chance that the two of them could ever be together for long, neither in Narnia nor in England. "It would be worse for us in my world," he said thickly. "There are laws, quite harsh ones, against two men loving each other." He used the word unselfconsciously, and only realised what he had said when he heard the intake of Caspian's breath.

"I do not understand. What right has your king to enact such a law? Surely what passes between any two persons in private can be of no consequence to others."

Edmund shrugged. "You have my complete agreement. It makes little sense to me either, but that is the law. But in fact it is not our king who creates the laws, but the lords and ordinary subjects who are chosen for that task, in what we call a parliament. Our ruler has far less real authority than you do, though his extends over a greater territory."

Now Caspian moved to stretch out on his back, his hands behind his head, looking up at the stars. After a moment Edmund did likewise.

"What are you thinking?" Edmund asked presently.

"Soon or late I shall have to marry." Caspian's words came slow. "I acknowledge this; it is one of the duties of any king, and indeed I swore to... to someone, once, that I would, though I have seven years yet in which to redeem that oath."

"Will it be so bad?" asked Edmund gently.

Caspian sighed. "I do not know. I will do my best to find affection for whomever my bride may be, but she will never hold my heart as you do." The last few words were spoken so softly that Edmund almost could not hear them.

Edmund fumbled to take Caspian's hand again and grasped it silently.

"The law of your world may be sterner, but you need not marry unless you wish, am I not right?" Caspian asked. At Edmund's murmured assent, he continued, "Whereas here there might be surprise, for it is uncommon for two men to prefer each other, but there is no law to forbid it. Except that a duty heavier than law lies upon me as king. I do not know which of us has the worse of it, you in your world, or I in mine."

"There is nothing either of us can do to alter the circumstances in which we find ourselves," said Edmund, "unless it were to alter the entire idea of kingship and succession in Narnia and put in place some other form of government; and since Aslan himself named you king, I do not think that would be possible. In my world there is _nothing_ I can do, not as an ordinary person and certainly not as a schoolboy, which I am still there."

Caspian chuckled. "I often forget that you are but a schoolboy in your own world, King Edmund. You must be a very remarkable one indeed."

"Not especially." Visions of classrooms and the refectory, dormitories and playing fields, crowded Edmund's mind. "I strive to excel at what is considered important there so that I may in other ways be left alone."

"I understand." Caspian pressed Edmund's hand, and together they watched the stars in silence for a time.

"If you could give up being king, would you?" Edmund asked at last.

Caspian did not answer immediately, instead holding Edmund's hand against his breast, where Edmund could feel his heart beat.

At last Caspian said, "Who would I be, if I were not king? And who would be king, if it were not I? I have at times envied the common sailors here on the _Dawn Treader_ , who may if they wish find pleasure in each other's company, and no one to say them nay or think the less of them for acknowledging such needs, be they physical or otherwise. In many ways I am less free than the least of those sailors. Yet if I were not king, small chance that I would be here at all, still less that you would be here with me. If I would taste the privileges of kingship, I must take the bitter with sweet."

Edmund rubbed his thumb over Caspian's hand, feeling the sword calluses there, then lifted it to his mouth to kiss the palm. "I thought you would say so. It is as well that we do not choose our own destinies, is it not?"

In the dim light, Caspian's teeth gleamed pale when he smiled. "I think I must agree. Edmund."

"Yes?"

"There is no way to know for certain how much longer you will remain, is there?"

"Not unless Aslan should give some word or sign. The first time I was in Narnia was for many years, as you know, but our departure was entirely unexpected and unheralded. The second time Aslan warned Peter and Susan that we would be leaving, but he told neither Lucy nor myself."

"Then since we do not know how much time we may have together, I think we should not waste it." Caspian rolled over. His lips found Edmund's cheek. "For now, may we lay aside this talk of kings and be merely two men together for a space?"

"Anyone might come upon us," Edmund protested halfheartedly.

"Not so. I told Rhince that I had matters on which I wished to consult King Edmund in private. The men on watch tonight will not disturb us, and your sister and cousin are early abed after today's excitement."

Reassured, Edmund let Caspian pull him close, their mouths meeting, exchanging heated kisses. Caspian fumbled at Edmund's clothing.

"We may never again have a better opportunity than this," he said, his voice hoarse with longing. "Will you lie with me unclad, Edmund?"

Edmund hesitated. He trusted Caspian's assurance that they would not be disturbed, but to go naked in the open air? Still, it was true that they might well have no other chance. He could not deny Caspian this, and at last in answer he began to unlace Caspian's tunic and breeches.

It was too dark now, even with the lanterns set at intervals around the deck rail, for Edmund to make out the details of Caspian's body, but touching him let memory and imagination fill in. Edmund ran his hands over Caspian's arms and chest, feeling the muscles there. "You've practiced a great deal with the sword," he remarked.

"Yes." Caspian was likewise stroking over Edmund's body, mapping bone and sinew and muscle as he went. "Also riding and shooting and wrestling. I have found that such exercise takes my mind off other matters."

"Matters such as this?" Edmund teased gently, as he let his hand drift downward.

"Exactly so," agreed Caspian, hissing as Edmund fondled him. "Since I had not," he made the briefest of pauses, "he whom I wanted, better I should turn my energies to some useful outlet."

Edmund wondered momentarily who might be the man or men to whom Caspian referred. He had noticed Caspian's admiration for Peter on his prior visit, but it seemed improbable that Caspian had nursed a desire for the High King for three years when he knew that Peter would never return to Narnia. He scarcely dared to hope that it might have been himself; far more likely that the object of Caspian's desires was a fellow Narnian. No purpose was served in dwelling on the matter.

"Edmund." Caspian's breath was warm against his neck. "Would you permit me to take you, this time?"

"Willingly." It mattered little to Edmund, who took and who was taken, though he knew that was not so for every lover of men. His own experience was by far greater in the latter role than as lover, and he had learned to tolerate it, even at times find pleasure. Till now, though, he had never been given a choice, and he loved Caspian the more for it.

"I remember what you did," Caspian said softly. From amongst his clothing, he produced a small flask of oil, tipping some into his palm before carefully restoppering it and setting it aside.

Edmund made as if to turn over onto his hands and knees, but Caspian checked him.

"I would look upon your face, if I may?"

"It will not be as easy for you," Edmund warned him, but acquiesced, drawing his knees up as Caspian positioned himself between Edmund's legs. Slick with oil, Caspian moved more slowly than Edmund had expected, to his unvoiced relief. When at last Caspian was fully inside, he said in wonder, "Oh, Edmund. I never imagined..."

Edmund's throat was tight. "Go on," he managed to say, thinking that he had never imagined feeling this way either. Caspian taking him in love was unlike any prior experience Edmund had had in school. He wanted to shout out his joy, but prudence made him bite back his cries, instead stroking Caspian's skin, urging him on with soft wordless noises.

As Caspian moved, Edmund slid a hand between their bodies to touch himself, gazing up into Caspian's dark-shadowed eyes.

There was heat and pressure and a fullness that hovered on the verge of pain yet never reached it and a glad ache in the muscles of Edmund's thighs as Caspian moved over and within him. He gasped out when Caspian shifted, his constricted voice repeating the syllables of Caspian's name in a litany of desire.

Caspian trembled, a quiver so slight that Edmund might not have noticed it had he been able to see better, but the near-loss of one sense heightened the others, and he gentled Caspian's skin with a hand until the quiver turned into first a shudder and then stillness, and then Caspian touched Edmund in return with quiet intensity, their lips meeting to seal the promise of their bodies' delight.

Afterward, tangled in Caspian's embrace, Edmund said drowsily, "If I had the choice between you and my own world, I would choose you."

"No, you would not." Caspian was definite. "You have too much honour for that."

Edmund sighed. "You are right... but I wish that I thought there were some way for us to be together, for more than this indeterminate time."

"So do I," Caspian said, pressing a kiss against Edmund's cheek, "but we will take what Aslan gives us."

To which Edmund could only agree.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from Richard Lovelace's poem "To Lucasta, on going to the Wars": "I could not love thee, dear, so much, / Lov'd I not honour more."


End file.
